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The Life of Princessa
Everyone knows Princessa from IRC Camps. She was the sweet, flirty, yet sassy girl of the bunch. Her talents were good enough to land her 6th place in her first camp. Now that she's not competing anywhere at the moment, she's living her everyday life. Except, she's a lot more famous than she was before. (This story is written from her point of view. Chapter 1: On The Boat of Losers Well, I had just been eliminated. I'd made it so far, but I obviously wasn't good enough. I thought back to my final words on the show. I closed my eyes. "Why did I tell him that?" I sighed aloud. When Nalyd had told me that he was sorry, I'd forgiven him. But I lied to him, everyone on the show, the world, but worst of all... myself. I felt so guilty for what I had done. Wishing desperately that I could rewind time and take it all back. But what had been done, was done. There was no going back, and I knew I had to live my life knowing that. The reason for the way I acted was this: I had a reputation. I thought that if I took him back, everyone would think that I was weak. It was stupid of me to do that. I didn't want to say those things to him, I did it so I would look like a strong, independent role model. Instead, it just made my heart even more broken. The chance to be happy again was right there in front of me, but I threw it away, just so that the world's view of me would be one of admiration. I just wish that I would've thought about my happiness, and his happiness over what the public thinks of me. It shouldn't have mattered. I should've just done what I felt was right. I was shallow, and pathetic. Though I did turn out to be a role model, I wasn't the kind I expected to be. Instead of being an example for girls to follow, I just showed them what not to do. I looked at my former competitors from a distance. The boat could still be seen. I stood up, and shouted out "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" But... I knew that no one could hear me, and if anyone did, they probably didn't care, or believe me. I gazed at the burning fire, slowly it faded to a speck of glowing gold. Soon enough, the only light was that from the boat, and the stars above. I sat down on a crate, and I looked at the tiny twinkling lights. In that moment, I realized something; I'd let the reality show fame get to my head. If I could redeem myself somehow, then maybe my life could be at least... half happy. I yawned. I went through my luggage and pulled out a pillow and a blanket. I made a bed-like thing out of life preservers and took a nap. Before I knew it, I was back on regular land. The ship driver woke me up, and I got off the boat. I took a taxi to the airport, and took a plane home to Malibu. I was ready to make a new name for myself. Chapter 2: I'm Home "Hello passengers. This is your pilot speaking," the intercom echoed. In that instant, I woke up from my slumber. "We're about 15 minutes or so away from LAX. Please buckle your seat belt, put your seats in the upright position, and turn off all electronic devices," he said. I sat up and followed his instructions. I looked out of my window. I saw Los Angeles and Malibu lying beneath the clouds. I smiled. Hopefully home would make me feel better. I probably had the easiest time going. I lost a chance at a million dollars, but really, that's my allowance for like 6 months. Plus, if I just beg daddy with my irresistable puppy dog face, he'll usually give me ANYTHING I want. Afterall, I'm his "Little Princess." Anyway, the plane started to descend to the ground. Before I knew it, the plane was sitting still on the Earth, and the sky cried out "Welcome home, Cessa!" "Okay everyone, we've officially landed at Los Angeles International Airport. It's about 8:04 AM PST, and it's 82 degrees," the pilot said. "Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines, we know you have a lot of options to choose from, but we're glad you chose us!" he continued. I unbuckled my seat belt, turned on my cell, and grabbed my stuff. I got up, and walked off of the plane. When I got into the hallway to the gate, I put my luggage on the ground. I sat down on my bags and pulled out my make up and a mirror. I put on some foundation, cover up, eyeshadow, mascara, blush, and lip gloss. Then I tied my golden locks up into a sophisticated, yet sexy, messy bun. For a final touch, I put on my big, glossy Chanel sunglasses. I got up, grabbed my bags, and proceeded to the gate. As I expected, a swarm of photographers and reporters rushed towards me. Being a star, I always had to be prepared. I posed for the photographers. If I decided not to cooperate, I knew they'd put the WORST picture of me that they could find on the cover of the National Inquirer. A couple of the photographers left. A reporter walked up to me. "Hello Miss Starlington," she greeted. "Hello, ma'am," I replied cheerfully. I was tired, I felt pretty crappy, and I was still heartbroken, but I had to pretend that everything was peaches and cream. As usual... "Princessa, how does it feel to be eliminated?" she asked, smiling perhaps a bit too much. "Well, no one likes losing, but I would've just donated the money anyway. Oh well, I think I'll do some charity work to make up for it," I smiled. That was true, I was going to donate it. What did I need an extra million for anyway? I already have like a KAGILLION shoes. "That's so great," she smiled. "Anyway, everyone's dying to know about you and Nalyd. Could you tell us more on the topic?" she asked. She'd hit a nerve, but I couldn't start crying again. I made the choice to be Miss Strong, Independent Woman. "Well, we broke up for a couple of reasons. It sort of hurt that he didn't freaking care, but uh, everything happens for a reason. I guess he just isn't the one," I told her. "Oh I see, well what about you and Taylor Lautner? Are you two together now?" she asked intently. "Not to be rude or anything, but I JUST got back to LA. I don't see how we could be together already," I replied, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yes, well do you think you'll end up together?" she asked. "Maybe, you never know," I shrugged. This chick was getting on my nerves. I just wanted to get in my beautiful little Mercedes convertible, and go get a Cinnamon Dolce Latte. "Yes, well thank you so much for your time, Miss Starlington," she replied. "Oh, you're welcome," I said walking briskly away. Sweet freedom! I made my way through the airport, and walked to the parking lot. Eventually I found my car, and someone very handsome resting his arm on the roof of it. "T... Taylor?" I asked, shocked. "Heard you'd be home today. I wanted to be the first person to greet you," he grinned. "Well the paparazzi beat you," I told him, half-smiling. "Princessa, they're not people, they're vultures," he smirked. I laughed lightheartedly. "Drive me to Starbucks?" I asked. "Sure," he said. I gave him the keys to my baby, and I got in the passenger's seat. He started up the car and pulled out of the parking space. He made his way onto the road, and started to drive downtown. I breathed in the fresh, southern Califonia air. The scent consisted of gasoline, palm trees, and coconut suntan lotion. I freed my hair from it's bun, and it danced gracefully in the wind. Taylor glanced at me, and smiled. Then he returned his attention to the road. "You're so beautiful," he told me. I blushed. "Thank you," I replied. I looked at the sandy beaches, shining lights, and pretty people as we passed by them. I turned on the radio and "TiK ToK" by Ke$ha played. I smiled, and shot my arms up into the air. I started singing along with the music. Taylor laughed at my dorky randomness, and he sang along with me. The song ended far too soon, and we laughed sincerely. No one could replace Nalyd, but perhaps, Taylor could fill the void. Chapter 3: At Starbucks Taylor pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. The car slowed to a stop. I grabbed my Gucci handbag, and got out of the car. I strutted to the door of the building. Taylor caught up with me. We both pulled out sunglasses and put them on. The paparazzi would probably find us eventually, had to try to stay unnoticed... Taylor opened the door for me, and I went inside. "Thanks," I said. "No prob, Cessa," he replied, grinning. I looked at the counter, there was no line, luckily. I walked up to the cashier. "Hi I'd like t-" I started to say, but I was interrupted by her squealing. "Oh my God! You're Princessa! Oh my God!!!!!!!" she screamed. Everyone looked at her like she was mentally insane. She had to be new. Most people who worked at LA restaurants were used to celeb appearances, and obviously she wasn't. I smiled weakly. "Yeah, that's me..." I muttered. She picked up a Sharpie and a napkin. "C-c-an I h-have-" she stuttered, holding the objects out to me, hands shaking. I chuckled lightly. "Sure," I replied. I took the pen and scribbled an elegant looking signature. "Thank you!!!!" she shouted. "You're welcome... Um, could I order some coffee now?" I asked. "Yes! Of course! What can I get you?" she asked, a big wacky grin on her face. "Er... I'll have a Cinnamon Dolce Latte," I said, turning around. "Taylor, you want anything?" I asked. He put up his hand, "I'm fine," he said, relaxing in the chair he was sitting in. "Alright then, so umm, just the latte. Make it Grande, please," I told her. She nodded eagerly. "$4.07," she told me. I handed her the money and sat by Taylor. She caught a glimpse of him and started flipping out again. Another employee rested his hand on her shoulder, and attempted to calm her down. Taylor laughed. "You haven't even been home for a day and people are already spazzing out over you," he said. I shrugged. "It's a bit annoying, but yet, it's flattering," I replied. "I know what you mean," he smirked. "Grande Cinnamon Dolche Latte!" a man yelled from behind the counter. I walked up to him and took the latte. "Thanks," I muttered, and sat back down next to Taylor. I sipped my latte. Taylor just kept smiling at me. "What?" I asked raising an eyebrow. "Nothing," he said, the expression still plastered on his face. "Oh. Okay then..." I replied, taking another sip. I thought back to the show, I missed my friends. But I had so few left by the time I was eliminated. I guess it was just my time. I missed being out there though. LA is amazing and all, but when you live there, eventually it feels like any other city. People are just more famous and wealthy. I sighed, and took another sip. "What is it?" he asked, his smile melted. "Just miss the show," I said. "And certain people,..." I added. "But you have me, and your friends here at home," he reminded me. "I guess," I muttered, smiling gently, not really that reassured. In that moment, I realized that Taylor seriously liked me, he wanted to help me, and thirdly, he had absolutely no idea about what I went through, so despite his efforts, I was pretty much stuck like this. Why couldn't I have been born with a normal, much less complicated life? Chapter 4: Wait... what just happened? I kept on smiling. I couldn't let him see I was faking it. I knew he'd be asking questions; ones that I didn't want to answer. "So, you ready to go?" he asked me. Even though my latte wasn't completely done, I threw it away. I'd do anything to keep his mind off of IRC Camps. "Yeah, let's go," I replied. "Where?" he asked. "Well... Let's go to Ocean Beach!" I suggested. "That's all the way in San Diego, are you sure?" he asked, somewhat confused. "Yeah, I'm sure," I told him. He shrugged and we went outside. We got in my car, and left for the beach. OB had always had a special place in my heart. I used to go there all the time when I was a little girl. In about 45 minutes, Taylor parked the car. "We're here!" I said. He nodded. "I have to go buy something, meet you by the pier?" I asked. "Sure, sure," Taylor answered. He got some stuff out of the car, and went to go change. I grabbed my purse and ran off to a swimsuit store. The cashier's eyes lit up. "SHHHH!" I muttered. I walked around a bit. I found a cute lilac colored halter bikini in my size, and purchased it. I then left the store and went to the ladies' changing room closer to the beach. I put on the suit, and put my clothes in the shopping bag that the suit had been in. I went back to the car and put my things away. Then I perused the beach for Taylor. I saw him waving at me, and I rushed towards him. He was wearing dark blue swim trunks. My jaw dropped. He was shirtless! I practically fainted. "Uh... are you okay?" he asked. I snapped out of it. "Oh! Yeaaaaaahh... It's all good," I said sitting down beside him. He smirked at me. "What?" I asked. Taylor laughed. "You're completely gorgeous," "Oh stop," I groaned. Normally, I'd be very flattered, but I heard that way too much. Not to be... stuck up or anything. But you try hearing that every ten minutes! "Why should I? You and I both know it's true," he added. Okay, so he had a point there, but nevertheless... I sighed, giving up. He put his arm around me, and I smiled. We just sat there for a while, occasionally chatting, and watching the surfers glide across the waves... and the little kids build sand castles together, and then destroy them... and, the sun start to set... WAIT WHAT? I blinked. "Oh my God, we've been here ALL DAY! I must have gotten a sun burn," I gasped. I looked at my skin. No burn, but I had a tan. Not just any tan, a nice one! I smiled. "Well, after the sunset is over, we can go," he told me. I nodded gently. We gazed out at the horizon. The sun climbed down from the sky, and fell below the ocean. The sky was much dimmer now. We got up. He took his hand in mine, and we walked to my car. I threw my clothes on over my suit, and got in the passenger's seat. Eventually, he got in the car too, and we drove off. "Thank you," I muttered after about 10 minutes of silence. "For what?" he asked, looking out at the road. "For... showing me that all hope is not lost," I told him. Taylor looked at me. "Then, you're welcome," he smiled. The rest of the ride was pretty quiet. We were back at LAX. I got out of the car, and watched as he gathered his things from the trunk. When he'd finished, he walked up to me. "Have a nice night," he told me. "Thank you," I replied. Then he... he kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, innocent in nature. After about 5 seconds, he broke it. He looked at me with his pretty brown eyes and smiled. Then he made his way to his own car. I watched him until he drove off, and I couldn't see his car anymore. I got in my car and sat down. I couldn't speak, I could barely breathe. I couldn't gather my thoughts. I drove myself home, and parked my car in the garage. I quietly snuck into my room, not wanting to talk to anyone. I sat on my big canopy bed and gasped. "Oh... my... God," I said. Chapter 5: In Retrospect I gazed up at my ceiling. I sorted through my thoughts. It was pretty obvious Taylor wanted me to be his official girlfriend. I... I really wanted that, but I didn't want to get my heart broken AGAIN. I was used to spontaneously making decisions. Having regrets later, and never learning from my mistakes. But I'm 16 now, as was I that night. I knew that I had to think about this. I'd never actually dated a celebrity like myself before. So, I wondered if that would make the relationship easier. You know... having a common understanding. The guys I've dated in the past... Half of them, I don't even know why I dated them in the first place. I just... saw the way that the girls at my school looked at me when I was with one of them. They were either very happy for me, or as jealous as it gets. It made me feel special, I guess. Like, when I was dating this guy named Josh. He... He was insanely hot. Like I'm NOT even kidding you. But... he was just a selfish jerk. He treated me decently, but not the way he should have. To be honest, the only reason we stayed together for so long is... Well, people said we looked good together... Then I had a MAJOR realization. Almost ALL of the decisions that I've made in my life have been based upon what other people say or think. I picked up a mirror and looked at myself. "You're not Princessa. She wouldn't stand for this. SHE wouldn't let the world make up her mind for her. Princessa would follow her heart... She wouldn't listen to the harsh judgements of society! But you do! You let everyone else run your life!" I shouted out. I threw the mirror to the floor. It shattered into a million pieces. Tears started streaming from my eyes. "Who am I anymore?" I cried in agony. Then I buried my face in a pillow, and pretty much soaked it. Once my tear flow had ended, I called in a maid to clean up the glass. She saw my mascara stained face. She shot a look of sympathy. Carlotta was a really sweet woman... "Just let me know if there's anything you want to talk about, Cessa," she told me as she finished sweeping up the last shards of glass. I wiped my eyes with a tissue. "I'm okay..." I muttered softly. I KNEW that Carlotta didn't buy that lie, but she nodded and walked off anyway. It was perhaps a bit too obvious that I wanted to be left alone then. I opened up my cellphone, and I looked at the text message Taylor had sent me during IRC Camps. wow princessa. u sure r something! good luck out there, i hope you win. but if those other people are stupid enough to kick you off the show, ill be waiting for you when you get back. stay strong - Taylor I'm pretty sure that Jess gave Taylor my number. They were pretty good friends. I bet Jess and Spenny had planned to set us up the whole time. They're really thoughtful. I sat up, and sighed. "Well Taylor, I guess my heart's in your favor right now," I said, half-smiling. Chapter 6: Get Me Out of Here! The next morning, I woke up. I was in no rush to see Taylor. Today was a day for my closest friends and I. No one else. I just wasn't in the mood for anything else. I needed chilling out time. All of a sudden, I just didn't want to be so famous anymore. I just wanted to be normal. (Well, I wanted to be rich, of course. But, not a superstar or anything!) Forever? I wasn't sure. But at least for a little while, I wanted to break away from it all. I didn't want to constantly have to act like the perfect daughter for dad. I wanted to be able to go out and do whatever I wanted without having photographers and news reporters stalking me. I couldn't stand it anymore! I took out my cell and sent a text to all of my friends. Inviting them to hang out on my yacht. All I wanted to do was lie on a comfy lounge chair under the sun, and occasionally chat with Jess or Sarah, perhaps Serene. I got out of bed, showered, and changed into a baby blue bikini. I put on a white cover up dress and went downstairs. My mother, father, and sister hugged me the SECOND they saw me. I only said what I had to. I ate a cheese omelet and went out to my car. Then I drove out to the pier where the family yacht was. I got out of my car, and sat on the hood. I waited for my friends to come and rescue me from the stupid drama. Chapter 7: Friends!!!!! I heard the sound of another car. I smiled. Jess' Porsche I bought her pulled into the parking space beside me. She got out of the car. I hopped off of the hood, and hugged her tight. "Jess!" I exclaimed, letting go of her. "Hey Cessa! Thanks for inviting Spenny and I," she said. "Oh you're welcome!" I chuckled. Spenny then got out of the car, carrying several bags. "Jess, honey, do you really need so much stuff for one day?" he asked, obviously in pain from the weight. "Of course I do! You can't just show up to Princessa's yacht without all the stuff you could possibly need. She's already way too sweet. We don't need to be asking her to get stuff for us," Jess remarked. Spenny grimaced, but nodded. "I guess..." he groaned. Jess simply smiled. She walked over to Spenny, and he happily gave her some of the bags. "I wouldn't want to make you carry all of those across the beach, up stairs, across the pier, and onto Cessa's yacht," she told him, smiling sweetly. "Thank God you're a merciful person..." he muttered. Jess chuckled. Jess put the bags she was holding on the roof of her car. "So, you guys, umm... did you have anything to do with setting up Taylor and I?" I asked, curious. Jess and Spenny looked at each other, confused. "Nope," they said in unison. "Oh..." I said quietly. The awkward silence came to an end as Shane, Sarah, and Serene showed up. "Where's your car, Sarah?" I asked her. "Well, Shane gave us a ride here. He became a cheetah so we could conserve energy," she said. "Serene's idea?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, but the cheetah thing was all Sarah. She loves those cats," Serene replied. "Ah," I said. "Anyway, Jess, is Cherish coming?" I asked. "No, she's hanging out with Katy today, as usual..." Jess groaned. Cherish was Jess's fraternal twin sister. Katy, otherwise known as Katy Perry, was their cousin. Cherish was almost always hanging out with Katy, and when she wasn't, she was with her boyfriend Matt. The girl never seemed to have time for us, but we figured that that was her loss. "Okay, is everyone here?" I asked. Jess shrugged. "I think so," Shane smiled. "Let's go then!" he exclaimed. We all got our stuff and ran joyfully to the yacht. Before we knew it, we were all chilling out poolside, underneath the LA sun. Finally, no paparazzi, no possible boyfriend drama, just me and my friends, enjoying a day of peace. Chapter 8: Dethroned The previous day had been so peaceful, my friends and I had had such an amazing time. For once, we FINALLY escaped drama. Times like those seldom exist when you're me. Nothing is just normal, chill, or simple. My life is usually a complicated mess of intertwined issues. I hate living like that. The day after... the worst day in history. A day that changed my life forever. And it all started with one little text... hey cessa, wanna come to a party 2nite? Taylor had texted me. I was bored, it didn't sound like a bad idea. sure, what time? I texted back. its @ 8 he replied. kk I sent back. It had been 6:00 when he called me, so I started getting ready immediately. I took a shower, did my hair and makeup all fancy, and I wore a cute sequined mini dress, and silver strappies. Before I knew it, Taylor was honking outside in his car. I rushed out to the car quickly, and got in the passenger's seat. "So, who's gonna be there besides us?" I asked him. "Oh, lots of people, Cessa," he told me. "Cool," I said, nodding once. Within about 15 minutes, we were at the club where the party was. Taylor and I both got out of his car, and walked in together. I heard the loud, pulsing music and smiled. "Let's dance!" I told Taylor. He smiled, and followed me as I ran for the dance floor. After a half hour of dancing, and mingling with the crowd, we decided to go chill for a while. I sat down on a sofa and caught my breath. "Wow, that was fun!" I said grinning. Taylor nodded. "You thirsty?" he asked me. "Yeah, I could go for a soda or something," I told him. "Okay," Taylor said walking off. I chatted with a girl and her friend who had been sitting beside me. They seemed like really nice people. Soon enough, Taylor came back with my drink. He handed it to me. "Thanks," I smiled. I took the cup from his hands, and took a sip. Taylor smiled. "You're welcome," When I'd finished it, we went back to the dance floor, and hung out there for a while. When I'd gotten tired again, Taylor brought me another drink, and I quickly drank it all. After that, I felt sort of strange. Through the course of the night, I'd had four of those. By 11:00, I'd completely lost my coordination. I was stumbling all over the place. The flashing lights were blurry, and my speech was slurred. "Taylor...?" I said right before I passed out. He took me in his arms, and carried me outside. I was out cold. The paparazzi took dozens and dozens of pictures. Reporters rushed up to Taylor and asked him dozens of questions. I could see the flashes of light behind my closed eyes. I could hear the voices. But, I couldn't make sense of what was happening. 　 The next day, I woke up at the sound of my mother's voice. "Princessa, Princessa! Wake up!" she shouted out. My eyes shot open, I tried to sit up. "Oh God,... my head..." I groaned. My mother handed me a copy of the National Inquirer. The headline read "Princessa Starlington- BUSTED!" I rubbed my neck. "What happened last night?" I asked my mother. "You got drunk," she told me. My jaw dropped. "WHAT?!" I screamed out. "Mhmm," she said taking the magazine from my hands. She showed me the front cover. There I was, unconcious, in Taylor's arms. She then flipped open to the article. "Taylor said that he saw you drinking last night," she told me. "Yeah, I only drank the soda he gave me! It was just Pepsi!" I told her. "Obviously not, Cessa. It looks like your little boyfriend put Vodka or something in there," she replied. "But why would he TRY to get me drunk?" I exclaimed. "I don't know, honey. We'll figure it out," she said. A moment later, my father entered my room. "Princessa Angela Starlington. How many times do I have to tell you to behave?" he shouted at me. "To be honest, not very many. I pretty much always behave," I said shrugging. He glared at me. "Do you know what this little slip up is going to do to business?!" he yelled. "Daddy! I didn't know I was drinking alcohol! Honestly!!!" I protested. "All I ever ask of you, is that you stay out of trouble. And then what do you do? You go off to a little dance club and become the next Lindsay Lohan!" he shouted, even louder. "But Daddy!" I shouted back. "No ifs, ands, or buts. You need to learn some responsibility young lady. I'm sending you to live with your Aunt Margaret for junior year," he said, his voice like poison. Chapter 9: Aunt Margaret's I sat in the back of my Aunt Margaret's mini van, arms crossed, a moody pout plastered on my face, and earbuds blarring Marina and the Diamonds to drown out my aunt's gabbing. We were in a small town in Minnesota. We were about an hour away from Minneapolis: probably the only hope I had for civilization. My dad, Andrew, had come from generations of money. My great-great-grandfather hit it big in the 1849 Gold Rush, and he started Starlington Industries, Inc. Since then, the business has been passed down from son to son, and now that my grandpa has retired, my father's in charge. However, my mom came from a lineage of average people. She's the first one to ever accomplish anything great. She's an Academy Award-Winning actress, actually, but her sister Margaret is her polar opposite. She's plain and overly conservative. She couldn't handle the city life for a day. She never visited much, and whenever she did, we could never leave the house or do much of anything. Los Angeles was too big and fancy for her. I could already tell we'd have trouble getting along. "And then Paul took our Christie to prom! I couldn't believe it! She was only in ninth grade, you know? And now he's graduated, and her little heart is broken. I would've told her 'no, no, no, he's much too old for you!' But he was such a nice young man that I couldn't let her turn him down. Very sad, isn't it?" Margaret went on. I raised an eyebrow at her, sighing because she was still louder than my music. "Yes, it's tragic, Aunt Margaret," I replied blankly. "Aww, Princessa, you don't have to be so formal! You can call me Auntie Maggie!" she chirruped. I groaned inside, but plastered the most convincing smile I had onto my face. "Sure, Auntie Maggie." "So then I..." she began again. I was about to crank up the volume on my iPhone again, but then the car came to a stop in front of a quaint little house. "Oh me, oh my! I've been so caught up in my stories that I didn't realize how close we were to home! Well, this is it, Cessa. Welcome!" she exclaimed. I opened the mini van's door and got out of the car. I started to walk towards the front door of her little country home, when Aunt Maggie interjected, "Oh Princessa!" I turned around to face her, cocking an eyebrow, obviously not in the mood to deal with her. "Yes?" "Aren't you going to get your things?" she asked. "Excuse me?" "Your luggage... with your clothes..." "Uhm-" "Look, maybe in California everyone does things for you, but in this house, we all pitch in. If something is our responsibility, we take care of it. We don't wait on anybody," she scolded. I rolled my eyes, sighed, and trudged to the trunk of the car. I lifted the door, and I slid my suitcases out to the ground. I grasped the handle of the bigger one, and as I picked up the smaller one, I rolled it along the gravel driveway. Dismayed, I transported my things across her big grassy lawn, along the concrete pathway, and up the steps to her porch. Aunt Maggie met me at the door, unlocked it, and I followed her inside. My Prada pumps clacked on her hardwood floor. "Where's my room?" I asked blankly. "Right up the stairs, first door on the left, sweetheart! I guess you must be tired from your flight. All this transitioning must be so hard for you," she said with sympathy. I climbed the spiral staircase with my bags and went into my new prison. I looked around the room, not impressed, but not completely disappointed. I chucked my suitcases to the floor. I opened up my closet and frowned. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. I then unpacked everything, and slid my suitcases onto the floor of the closet. I plopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. As the boring white paint glared back at me, I got lost in my thoughts. I couldn't believe I was being subjected to this! It was all Taylor's fault. I never thought he would do something like this. He seemed to be such a nice person... but then again, Nalyd did too, and we all know how that turned out. I sighed again and curled up underneath the blankets. The sun set outside of my small window, and when Aunt Maggie asked what I wanted for dinner, I told her I wasn't hungry. I was too tired, frustrated, and miserable to even think about food. I went to bed early that night. I had school in the morning anyway. You know, I normally wouldn't care about school... but my parents were sending me to, dare I say it... PUBLIC school! I grew faint of heart at the very thought. The only thing that could be worse would be to lose my inheritance... but at this point, I would even go to'' public ''school to prove to daddy that I deserve it. Chapter 10: Ew, Public Transportation, Too? The next morning, the sunlight beamed in through my window. My eyes fluttered open, and I woke up to my own cicadian rhythm... Yeah, I wish. Before the sun had even considered rising, my aunt barged into my room. "Princessa! It's time to get up!" she chirruped. I thought that if I ignored her, maybe she'd go away, or maybe I'd wake up from this terrible nightmare... But that didn't happen. She ripped the blankets off of me, and my brown eyes shot open. "What?!" "You need to get ready for school!" she beamed. I looked at the clock on my bedside table and groaned. It was 5 AM. Who is THAT perky at five in the morning?! I sat up. "You said school doesn't start until 8:30," I protested. "It doesn't." "Then why do you need to disturb me now?" "You know you can't go to school as Princessa Starlington!" she exclaimed. "Oh, and why not?" "You know what an uproar that would cause. Your dad sent you here to keep you out of the public eye for a while. Your mother kept her family life very secret. No one knows that I'm her sister," she explained. I was well aware. Mother had claimed to have been an orphan. She knew her family would never forgive her if they became targeted by the paparazzi. Her mother wanted to lead a different life, a glamorous one. Her kin did not, and they promised to support her as long as she kept them out of the picture. "So no one will think twice if I say my niece has come to stay with me," she added. "Then who am I supposed to be?" I asked. "You're a great actress like your mother. You'll be an average girl from a small town, just like here. I've told everyone your name is Scarlett Smith. Your parents sent some things for you to disguise yourself," she told me. She left the room and returned with a box of hair dye. The model in the picture had luxurious chocolate-colored locks. I grimaced. "You want me to be a brunette?" Aunt Maggie nodded, and she also gave me a contacts case. "These are colored. They're green. They should help, too. Or at least that's what your mother said. I don't know much about these things..." she muttered. "I'll let you get ready, but please don't wear anything too fancy. Remember, you're not Princessa. You're Scarlett. You're not an heiress, you're normal." And with that, she left the room. I sighed. Normal. That's what I'd asked for all along. They say be careful what you wish for... I took my new identity with me into the bathroom. I washed my face, put in the contacts, and looked at myself in the mirror. The difference was greater than I'd anticipated. I then followed the instructions on the box of dye, and an hour later, my blonde locks had disappeared. I frowned at my reflection. It wasn't me. I finished the look off with some modest makeup. I went back to my room, and I wore the simplest outfit I had: light colored skinny jeans, silver ballet flats, a white strapless top with ruffles, silver hoop earrings, and a dark gray cardigan. I walked downstairs with my bookbag, filled with all the essential supplies. Maggie smiled. "You look beautiful, honey," she said. I thanked her and sat down at the table. I ate the Cheerios from the bowl in front of me, brushed my teeth, and darted outside just in time to catch the God-forsaken bus. Ew. I walked past the freshmen in the front, the sophomores in the middle, and sat amongst the upper classmen in the back. A guy wolf-whistled at me, and I turned around to look at him. He had shaggy blonde hair and light gray eyes. I cocked an eyebrow at him. "What's your name, sexy?" he smirked. I rolled my eyes. "I'm Pr-," I coughed, "I mean, I'm Scarlett. Scarlett Smith." "You sure about that?" he chuckled. "Yes," I retorted. He smiled at me suggestively, and I turned back around in my seat. Even when I was someone else, guys treated me the same way. I knew I'd never escape that much... The girl next to me had ginger red hair, amber eyes, and tons of freckles on her cute little face. She smiled at me. "Sorry about him, Scarlett," she whispered. "That's Danny. He flirts with all the girls." I nodded. "I'm used to it..." I replied, hoping I didn't sound too conceited. I was just being honest. "Well, I'm Mary," she muttered. "It's nice to meet you!" I smiled back at her. "It's nice to meet you, too," I replied. Maybe this wouldn't be THAT bad... Category:Drama stories Category:Noncompetition stories